


One Woman

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Backstory, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Seska can betray the Maquis, Chakotay and ultimately the crew of Voyager, someone had to be responsible for Seska’s Bajoran appearance, so here’s how that might have happened, and what followed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Woman

Seska leaned forward and ran her fingers through Tain’s hair. Despite what they’d done it was barely disheveled, but she considered that even a few errant strands were out of place on one of his ilk. She felt a touch at her hip; the message was unmistakable and she reached between them. It was better to disengage carefully, even elegantly. She still had no idea as to why she’d been selected to service Tain. She kept the frown from her face as her hands automatically stroked the gray flesh and scale at his groin. No; service was all wrong. That wasn’t what this session of sex had been about. Her gut instinct told her she was being tested, but she’d expected a different sort of trial. A recon mission; or better yet, sabotage of some description. Maybe capturing a spy? She had excelled at ‘101 Ways to Obtain Information from a Prisoner’.

She found herself on her back with Tain leaning over her. She smiled up into his face and murmured something, all the while cursing herself for allowing her thoughts to distract her. That would not get her selected for anything other than more training. She shuddered as his hand gently squeezed the ridges at her neck. He was good, very good. He'd pushed almost every one of her sexual buttons. Age had in no way imposed any handicap upon him. 

“Could you give this up?” 

His hand was at her neck and she felt the urge begin to build again.

“Become celibate?” She frowned. Did she want to give this up? Not just for what it did for her, but there were other considerations. Sex was a valuable commodity when it came to trade for information or to place one in a suitable position to search for evidence, not to mention the power it enabled her to wield. Was that what this was all about? If it meant moving higher up into the Order, consolidating her position over the other recruited at the same time. “If it were necessary…”

“Not celibate. Simply, you would have no more ridges, no more -,” and he listed every part of her body that made her Cardassian.

Reflexively, she tried to sit, but Tain kept her in position. “Surgery? But why?” She failed to keep her emotional response hidden. She sank back into the bed. A number of interesting scenarios suddenly presented themselves for her consideration. “Explain.”

“We want to insert operatives into the Maquis. A Cardassian would have no chance of securing such a place.”

“You want me to become Human?”

“Bajoran.”

“Bajoran!” 

“Intelligence confirms the son of Kolopak has resigned from Starfleet and joined the Maquis. The scores you obtained in Bajoran History and Customs are some of the highest ever achieved, whereas your knowledge of Earth and all of Terran dominions is only average. Your competence in the field of warp engineering will make you a valuable asset to any Maquis cell, but we want you to infiltrate that one in particular. Bajoran is safer.”

“Won't there be other Bajorans?”

“None from the southernmost province.”

She had more questions but she couldn't seem to think clearly when his fingers traced the ridges framing her eyes. As it was, they were irrelevant at this moment. She would be told everything she would need to know at the appropriate time. They both knew she would not refuse the assignment; she would never have otherwise been told the details. “When?” It was the only thing she could ask now.

“You'll be transferred to Medical first thing in the morning.”

“In that case...” Seska reached up and jerked Tain's face back to hers.

 

~ 

 

“C’mon, Chakotay. You hired me to be a pilot. Let me do it.”

Seska listened to Tom Paris cajoling Chakotay and frowned into her raktajino. The man was a thorn in her side in more ways than one. She’d been unable to obtain any useful information from him to pass on to her contact, although that wasn’t surprising; too much time had passed since he’d been put out of Starfleet. Then there was his dislike of her personally, no secret among the crew, and the way he kept out of her way as much as possible, currying favor with Chakotay she was sure by keeping the arguments she kept provoking to a minimum. Chakotay ran a tight ship. He couldn’t abide waste, objecting to interpersonal problems that spilled over into the running of the ship and interfered with efficiency as much as physical waste. And there was the most frustrating cause of her dislike. Paris was interfering with her personal time with Chakotay.

It had been all too easy to worm her way into Chakotay’s cell and into his bed. Chakotay was a good lover, even better at wringing out pleasurable responses from this cursed Bajoran body than her instructor had been. The tiny nose ridges were nothing, nothing compared to Cardassian scales. He’d stroked the sides of her neck and somehow elicited a ghostly echo in the nerve endings that once fed into her ridges that had her arching off the bed and baring her throat for him. When he’d set his teeth at the exposed cord of muscle she’d practically howled at the jolt of pleasure that unexpectedly shot through her.

Now she had to watch Chakotay watching him. The sparks of attraction that flew between them had to be visible to anybody who cared to look. She didn’t think Chakotay had bedded him yet, but it wouldn’t be long, and she knew that once he had, Paris would usurp her place and her usefulness to the Order would be diminished. She needed a plan.

She stared into her mug as she slowly swirled the cooling Klingon drink that she vastly preferred to the weak Bajoran equivalent. Tom Paris’ features smirked back at her. She scanned the room when the crack of the mug she slammed onto the table jolted her back into the present, but fortunately nobody seemed to have noticed her fit of temper. She’d been subtly hinting to Chakotay, Ayala, and Dalby at the planning meetings that Paris wasn’t to be trusted. It would not be too much of an about-face to suggest they use this mission as a way to establish Paris’ reliability. All it would then take would be a tip-off to her contact, Paris would be captured and she’d kill two birds with one stone. She would accrue credit with the Order for providing the means of capturing a Starfleet admiral’s son, even if the relationship between father and son was estranged, and she'd cement her hold on Chakotay’s emotions. She supposed she should be thankful Paris was only a pilot. She spared a moment to wonder about the new engineer Chakotay had recruited, but the woman would not be joining them for a few more weeks; apparently she was Klingon. 

 

~ 

 

Seska muttered to herself over her console in engineering, but still careful to let only Bajoarn curses fall from her lips. Even after two years, her Cardassian heritage was apt to come to the fore, especially when her temper was in danger of boiling over. The prospect of getting rid of the detestable Bajoran body any time soon continued to shrink as Janeway made one stupid decision after another, condemning them to seventy years in the delta quadrant, when they should be building a base of power, forging alliances and availing themselves of whatever technology they could get their hands on that would help send them home. The Maquis she’d spoken to on the quiet agreed with her. Perhaps it was time to approach Chakotay and let him know she’d formed some alliances of her own. He was Maquis and it had to be sticking in his gut to defer to Federation rules all of the time.

There was a sudden crackle and hiss from the leftmost panel. Another relay had blown. The route to where the spare parts were stored was well-trodden. Naturally there was none of the type she required left. She called out to Carey she’d collect more from the cargo bay. She walked briskly, discouraging anyone who passed from engaging her in idle chitchat, but she didn’t hurry as fast as she should as she used the time to formulate more plans.

Several yards from the cargo bay door, raised voices emanating from the room caught her attention. She slowed abruptly and halted just outside. She peered cautiously around and surprise caught her breath in her throat. She couldn’t stay where she was, but things were too good to interrupt. She sidled in and stood in the shadows of a tall stack of crates.

Chakotay and Paris were arguing about something. She strained to hear, but their raised voices of minutes ago had lowered and she could not make out their words. She watched as Paris took a step forward and then another, invading Chakotay’s space. He face was red and she could see his chest heaving. He raised his right hand, finger pointed. If he poked Chakotay in the chest, Seska would have an almost ringside seat to watch Chakotay’s reaction, hopefully a fist to Paris’ face. Come on, do it, she urged under her breath, but Paris took a step back and raised both hands placatingly. More words were exchanged and Paris’ hands dropped to his hips. He said something else, obviously provocative, thought Seska as she watched Chakotay take a sudden step closer to Tom and lean forward. She debated whether it was possible for to edge closer. They seemed totally engrossed in their own affairs, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be subconsciously aware of their surroundings – Starfleet & Maquis training notwithstanding.

“I can’t!”

Tom’s exclamation sounded clearly and Seska wondered at the emotion in the simple words. He seemed to be begging; she recognized that easily enough. Chakotay’s low voiced answer lacked Paris’ clarion tones and she could make nothing of his muffled response. 

She had to stuff her fist into her mouth to muffle a cry of surprise when Paris suddenly grabbed Chakotay's head, pulled it close to his own and kissed him. Not good, this is not good, it’s lasting too long her mind screamed when Chakotay reared back. His chest heaved several times and then there was the sound of flesh striking flesh. He turned abruptly and strode out without a backward glance. She stared as Tom remained where he was. He must have been in shock as he did absolutely nothing for a few moments, then he wiped his sleeve across his mouth and cautiously touched his face. She kept still as he made his way slowly across the cargo bay. She examined his features carefully when he passed by her hiding place, but as usual his expression was enigmatic. She had to wonder at his motives; after all this time it had to be something more than a simple fuck. Regardless of the reason, that was completely the wrong way to approach Chakotay. She sighed and remembered to collect the container of replacement relays. Perhaps an alternate plan that did not include Chakotay at this time; it was best to trust only herself.

 

~ 

 

Seska paced across the small room allocated to her on the Kazon-Nistrim vessel. She had not factored in this species’ attitude to females when she made her plans. Indeed, she had not been aware of the extent to which their females were subjugated while she could provide Maje Culluh with what he wanted. She needed her position of power - she needed Voyager – and to wit she had a plan. She would become the consort of Maje Culluh and pull the strings, as it were, from behind. He believed so little in the intelligence and resource of females, he wouldn’t realize his decisions would ultimately be hers.

She considered her allocation of water and cursed the lack of replicator technology. The tiny bathroom held white sand, but a sand scrub would not do for what she planned. She pictured Culluh’s features, and while she might wish for the short, smooth hair favored by Cardassians, his ridges were not unattractive. Then she smiled. War and medical technology seemed to advance hand in hand and now there was no need to retain her Bajoran disguise. She wondered how soon she would be able to convince Culluh to authorize her restoration.

Excitement lent her wings and she quickly stripped off the Kazon clothes she’d been given. She found the blue hospital gown she’d been wearing when she beamed over to the Kazon ship and made use of the cutlery to detach a corner. Two thirds of the water would have to suffice. She cleaned her body carefully. There was nothing with which to perfume herself – damn the lack of replicators. Piece by piece she examined each article of clothing and frowned. None were conducive to seduction. The bright blue of the Voyager gown caught her eye. She picked it up and turned the material this way and that and then held it against her body. 

A long plait disguised the fact she’d been unable to wash her hair, but instead of winding it into the Bajoran coronal she left it dangling down her back. Strips of blue barely covered her breasts and hung from her waist. She selected only two pieces of Kazon outer garments to hide her new underclothing. 

Opening the door to her room triggered the appearance of two Jal.

“Inform Maje Culluh I wish to discuss the capture of the Federation vessel.”

The Jal exchanged glances and remained where they were.

“Do you wish the Maje to know it was you who delayed too long to pass on this message and the Federations escaped? Tell him now, I say.” She looked imperiously at them and laughed. “I will remain here.” She stepped back into the room and closed the door.

 

Later it proved all too easy to get Culluh to dismiss his underlings and leave the two of them alone. She moved in close and murmured her approval into his ear, flattering him, praising his inventiveness, his daring and his strength. Her fingers caressed his face as she predicted his rise to First among all, and the superiority of the Kazon-Nistrim. She undid the fastenings at his neck and feathered kisses along his jaw before fastening her mouth over his and kissing him as she’d been taught.

“What are you doing? Stop!” Culluh remonstrated as he pulled away.

“Why, Maje,” cooed Seska, “do not your females show respect for their leaders? Do they not share with them the joys of the flesh when there is something to celebrate?”

Culluh groaned in response as Seska continued, baring his chest and teasing the central ridge with her open mouth. “You may continue to respect me in this fashion,” he ordered.

She slipped off the Kazon outer garments and smiled when Culluh’s eyes widened at the sight of her barely clad body. She allowed him to pull off the breast band. Without waiting for him, she cupped her breasts. “Yes, Maje. Touch them, taste them.”

It was all too easy after that. One woman could achieve anything out here if she set her mind to it. 

 

~ 

 

“I’m listening to you now, Tom.”

“I just wished you’d listened to me before, Chakotay.”

“Just how many times do you want me to apologize?”

“Oh, how about a couple of hundred?” said Tom and grinned and contemplated the ceiling of the first officer's quarters for a moment before rolling onto his side. 

“I should have picked up on Seska’s deception sooner, maybe even back in the alpha quadrant,” Chakotay continued his self-blame. His voice was muffled as he spoke into the crease of his elbow. He blinked the eye he had open. “You should never have needed to agree to Kathryn's plan, placing your life in danger like that. If you'd been killed the ultimate blame would have been mine. Come to that, you should never have gone to Auckland. I -”

“Negative,” interrupted Tom forcefully. “She covered her tracks well, and you had no reason to disbelieve your lover.” He reached out and smoothed the expression of distaste that had settled on the half Chakotay’s face he could see.

“Betrayed by Seska, not once but several times, betrayed by Tuvok – I have to question my judgment.”

“But you're not questioning it – this - now, are you? Besides, I should apologize to you as well. The public apology...?” he added, pushing himself up onto one elbow and looked down at the smooth back of the man lying on his stomach next to him. . “It was... I blew you off pretty flippantly. I -. What?” he asked when Chakotay gave a sudden burst of laughter. “What? Oh, poor choice of words, although I wouldn't call what I was doing just before 'flippant'. In fact, I'm rather hurt that you would. I guess I'll just have to do something about altering your understanding of flippant! I can't have my reputation tarnished like that. Flippant indeed.” And with that, Tom rolled Chakotay on to his back and proceeded to kiss away any remaining bad energy of Seska's. Was it worth the deception, the sacrifices, the almost being killed to end up here? Hell, yes, he decided and pushed his own memories aside in favor of making some new ones.

END


End file.
